by J P Books
“Yes,” I say, overflowing with happiness. “Yes, I’m going to stay right here. At least until Darren brings us the room service he promised.”
CHAPTER 8
Samuel
Darren did bring Miranda and me breakfast in bed. It wasn’t exactly easy to eat with three of us knocking elbows, but the burritos he made were delicious, so I wasn’t going to complain.
Satiated and somehow exhausted all over again, we lay in bed together. This is a picture of my happiness. This is all I want out of life.
Well, maybe one more thing.
“So, are we going to talk about the baby thing now that we know you’re not leaving for real?”
The room goes quiet.
“I don’t understand why you guys are so against the idea,” I complain. “Miranda, it was your idea in the first place!”
“It’s not that I’m against it,” she says, patting my leg. “It’s just that I said it as a kind of a joke. Only it turned out to be not so funny. I didn’t mean for it to be a real idea, I said it without thinking.”
“Don’t you want a baby?” I ask.
“More than you know,” she says, sadness in her voice. “I gave up my entire life as I knew it because I want a baby so much. But I haven’t seen you guys in 15 years. Everything feels right and perfect and I love being here right now. But I don’t think it would be smart to just have a baby, just like that,” she snaps her fingers.
“Of course, not ‘just like that,’” I say, snapping my fingers back her and sticking out my tongue so she’d know I wasn’t angry. “That’s why I said we should talk about it.”
“Sam, I think it’s just a little soon to be talking about babies,” Darren says and my heart sinks.
We’ve been talking about having a baby for almost a year now. Darren and I have looked into our options. Adoption. Surrogacy.
They’re both expensive and prejudiced. So far, nothing has felt like an option until Miranda showed up. And this doesn’t feel like an option. It feels like a family. At least it does to me.
My family sucked at raising children and I’ve always wanted the opportunity to do it differently. To be a parent more like Miranda’s dad than mine.
It feels the carrot was dangled in front of my face and then snatched away, and now nobody will even talk about it.
Last night was the most incredible night of my life, despite nearly getting flattened by a tree, and I’m overflowing with happiness. But this baby conversation hurts.
Miranda takes my hand and looks at me. “It’s not that I don’t want a baby, or that I don’t want your baby, or Darren’s baby. I’m not even sure I can have babies. I came here because my doctor said that I was too stressed, and my chances of getting pregnant were slim to none unless I relaxed.”
I didn’t know that. All the sadness I had been feeling for myself now I share with her.
“I’m more relaxed and happier right now than I’ve been since I left after high school, but I think it’s going to take more than a week for my body to get back to a place where it’s healthy enough to support growing a baby.” She has tears in her eyes and, even though it breaks my heart to know she’s hurting, it does make me feel a little bit better to know that there’s a reason she doesn’t want to talk about having babies right now.
“We’ve only just got the gang back together again. We haven’t had enough time to figure out how we’re going to fit together yet,” Darren says, always the pragmatic one. “I don’t know about you guys, but last night was one of the best nights of my life. I think we should give ourselves some time to remember what it’s like to be together again and learn what it’s going to be like to really be together.” He emphasizes his meaning by running his hand down Miranda’s chest.
He meets my eyes and smiles at me.
I bring my hand up beside his and she reaches up to take one of each our hands in her own.
“I think that’s a good idea,” she says.
“OK,” I give into their majority vote, but not without a fight. “How about this. You nurse me back to health, and then I’ll nurse you back to health.”
I move my hand down to her belly. “This house is going to officially become a stress-free zone. No stress allowed.”
She giggles as I tickle her stomach and she swats my hand away playfully.
“Deal,” she agrees.
“Do you guys remember the deal we made in freshman year?” Darren asks.
“I think we made a lot of deals,” I scrunch my face, trying to figure out which one he was referring to.
I remember making a deal to never tell our parents about trying pot for the first time, or about blowing out the tire on Mr. Kassis’s motorcycle, or about the time we got pulled over by the cops for driving home drunk. We made a lot of deals about not telling on ourselves.
Miranda knows which deal he’s talking about though. I can tell because she’s smiling that secret smile she always gets when she figures something out.
“If we’re not married by 35, we’ll marry each other.”
I remember that! “You said it was because you didn’t want to be an old mom, so you needed one of us to save you from the miseries of spinsterhood.”
She giggles. Back then, I thought that 35 was old. Ancient. It feels like just yesterday we were kids, and here we are now, not talking about having babies.
“I think we should make another deal, right now,” Darren says and places his hand out, palm up on Miranda’s bare stomach.
Trusting him without even knowing what the deal was going to be, I place my hand in his. Miranda hesitates a second longer but puts her hand in mine and we all close our fingers around each other.
“Let’s agree to never keep secrets from each other again and to always tell each other how much we love…each other.”
I snort. “That sounds eloquent,” I laugh at him. But I don’t know how to say it any better, so I just echo his words, and Miranda chimes in with me.
“We’ll never keep secrets from each other again, and we’ll always tell each other how much we love each other.”
And this time, we seal our deal with a kiss. Or two.
EPILOGUE
– One Year Later
Darren
I will never again take silence for granted. Silence or sleep, two of life’s most precious gifts that I didn’t fully appreciate until we had the twins.
Since their arrival, nothing has been the same. Nothing will ever be the same again.
Through every minute of the mind-numbing exhaustion, I am grateful.
When Miranda came back into our lives, things seemed to slide right into place. Sam and I had been happy, but we didn’t even realize there was so much missing until she showed up.
When she got pregnant accidentally a month later, it was like a sign from the universe telling us that we were ready. All of us.
Sam had just been signed on by our old high school to coach the football team, and everything felt like it was falling into place. This was supposed to happen.
We weren’t ready, of course. I don’t think anyone is ever ready for a baby. Especially not twins. But I’ve never loved anything so much as I love those boys. They are perfect.
We agreed not to have a paternity test done. I think they look exactly like Sam, but he thinks they look like me. Miranda can’t decide and none of us cares. We’re a family.
A loud family that exists on very little sleep.
But we’re happy.
I head to the kitchen with the baby monitor in hand, praying that they’ll stay sleeping long enough for the three of us to eat some dinner together. We rarely get time together anymore. One of us is always either feeding the babies, changing the babies, or cleaning up whatever mess the babies have left behind.
As I come up to the kitchen, I see Miranda wrap her arms around Samuel from behind. They’re getting ready to make dinner but got a little distracted.
Since the
babies arrived, it’s been difficult for any of us to find the energy for sex. The desire is there. It’s always there. But the timing seems to be constantly off.
I stay where I am, just watching them.
Miranda’s hands are starting to explore the ridges of Samuel’s torso through his shirt. Her lips leave a slow trail of kisses from one shoulder blade to the other. When her lips contact the exposed skin of his upper bicep, Samuel turns his body to face her, noticing me standing in the doorway.
I smile, nodding to encourage him to continue. I’ll join in, but right now I’m happy watching.
When I try to explain our relationship to anyone outside of our trio, they’re always amazed and slightly suspicious that we can truly love each other and not feel any jealousy between us.
There’s no reason for jealousy. Because we all truly love each other. The pleasure they’re finding in each other right now gives me pleasure to watch. In fact, my cock is getting harder by the second.
Samuel has his hands tangled in her hair and he pulls her mouth to his. Her hands wrap around Sam’s neck at the same time her leg lifts towards his hip. He grabs her leg and then reaches for the other, lifting Miranda high on his waist and walking her backward until he’s able to deposit her on the counter.
As Sam’s mouth drops to her neck, she turns her head in my direction. I smile at her and put down the baby monitor. I walk towards them slowly, watching as they continue to drink each other in.
I stop directly behind Samuel.
I press myself against his back so he can feel my hard length against his ass, and I reach around to find Sam’s solid mass of cock, straining against the sweatpants he’s wearing. We groan simultaneously at the contact and I feel his hips thrust in encouragement.
With one hand, I continue slowly jerking him, and use the other to massage Miranda’s breast. Sam had already tugged the thin material of her strapless dress down, so now my thumb can caress her hardened, sensitive nipple.
“Careful,” she says, not wanting to start her flow of milk. Her nipples had been the first thing I noticed changing when she got pregnant, and they’re still a constant source of amazement to me.
She doesn’t get the same pleasure out of my touch as she did before, as they’re so sensitive now. Often raw and chapped. But she had just fed the twins, and they’re amazingly tender right now. I cup one large breast in my hand, marveling at how beautiful she is.
Looking at her now, I realize this is one of those moments I will store away for the rest of my life. Her cheeks are flushed, her chest is heaving heavily, and little moans are escaping her lips.
I reach for her neck, unlatching Samuel’s hold on her, to pull her lips to mine. It is an odd angle, but I manage to push my head far enough over Sam’s shoulder to make it work. As my lips meet hers, my hand continues its slow pumping motion around Sam’s throbbing cock, eliciting even louder groans from him.
I release Miranda’s lips and whisper, “Play with her, baby,” to Samuel. “I want you to play with her as I take you from behind.”
Samuel turns his head to kiss me fully before he returns his attention to Miranda.
I pull my pants down, stepping out of them completely before pulling Samuel’s down as well.
Miranda leans back on the counter to give Sam better access and he hikes her dress up, pulling off her underwear. She whimpers quietly, the sound sending waves of desire through my body. “Anxious, are we?” I ask, knowing we’re all nearly desperate for each other.
I hear the low rumble of a chuckle from Samuel as I kneel behind him. The chuckle quickly fades into a groan when I spread his cheeks. My tongue darts out to skim along the outsides of the delicate hole in front of me. I keep working his cock as he bends forward to lick Miranda’s pussy, which I’m sure is dripping wet by now.
I use my other hand to massage his cheeks, kissing his ass and taking a little nibble here and there. I love teasing his ass. I let my hot breath warm his hole and run my tongue around the opening some more.
Sam readjusts, giving me better access and signaling he wants more. I stand up and head to the cupboard for some coconut oil, our favorite lube. It tastes great and stays slick and slippery longer than most commercial brands. It’s warm enough for the coconut oil to liquify in my hand quickly, and I slather it over his ass, massaging his hole with my finger.
I dip one finger inside of him and hear him moan with pleasure. That must send good vibrations through Miranda because she gasps and starts to beg.
I have a perfect view of Samuel’s head in between Miranda’s legs and her hand holding his head in place. Her back is arched, and her head is thrown back in ecstasy. She keeps whispering both our names, pleading with us for more.
I pour extra oil over my cock and press it against Sam’s asshole, gripping his hard length from behind. “You ready baby?” I ask.
I know the answer, but seeing him nod his head from between Miranda’s legs is a turn on. He wants me as much as I want him.
We’ve perfected the entrance over the years, and since having Miranda as part of our sexual adventures, we’re usually both so turned on that it doesn’t take long for the resistance to give way. I plunge inside Sam.
I’ve been focused on watching my lovers until now, but the very real, tight and throbbing ass now massaging my cock is enough to make me moan loudly.
I hold his hips and move deeper. I can feel his cock grow harder in my hand as I move. I have to admit, I’m impressed that Samuel can keep his lips latched on to the glorious pussy that’s now humping his face while I’m inside of him.
Watching Miranda press herself into Sam, feeling his cock grow for me, and hearing the two of them moaning in unison is almost more than I can handle.
Thankfully, we’ve all been waiting for this opportunity too long to draw it out. We need release. Miranda starts gasping for god, and I can feel Sam’s ass tightening around me.
In seconds I feel Sam’s hot come shooting into my hand and I keep pumping him hard.
When his ass starts to spasm around me, I can’t hold off any longer, and I pull out quickly to let my own load cover his ass, milking out every last drop as the waves of my orgasm flow through me.
As Samuel straightens up, he turns to face me. He kisses me deeply and I can taste Miranda on his mouth and tongue. We break apart and both lean down to kiss the sexy, exhausted mother of our children.
THE END
The Girlfriend Experience
CHAPTER 1
Harley
Never in a million years did I ever imagine myself searching the phrase “how to find a female sex partner for your bisexual husband” in Google.
After 7 years married to Dexter, I still love him as much as I did the day we said “I do” and I know he feels the same way. But I’ve never believed that being in love means having one person fulfill all your earthly desires.
I don’t know if growing up openly gay made me more willing to flout social norms or if it’s just who I am, but I’ve always thought that love and lust can be separate.
I just happened to get lucky when I found Dexter, who’s not only my soulmate but also the most desirable man on earth.
All relationships have honeymoon phases.
It’s not like the fire is gone from our marriage, not by any means. But lately, I’ve been feeling like Dexter is missing something. Something of the female variety.
I’ve been gay since I got my first hard-on watching David Bowie in Labyrinth. From the moment I saw his package displayed boldly in that silver leotard, I’ve been a sucker for a flashy dick.
Dexter thought he was straight until he met me, and we fell madly in love. He spent the formative years of his sexual prime with women.
For me, this created a whole new world of sexual excitement. I came into my sexuality as a bottom and assumed that was my lot in life. Dexter had no such preconceptions.
He wanted to try everything. Top, bottom, oral, toys…w
e did it all.
And because we started our relationship in a frenzy of experimentation, that’s how we continued it.
Even after 7 years, we still discover new ways to please each other.
That man is one lusty gus!
But it would be ludicrous of me to think that he’d never miss a woman’s touch. I may be pretty, but I’m definitely not a woman.
Our anniversary is coming up and I’ve been toying with the idea of arranging for him to enjoy the company of a lovely lady for an evening.
I’d like to surprise him with something special. As much as I love him, he doesn’t have a trendy bone in his body. I never know what to buy him for special occasions. He’d be happy wearing the same damn pair of jeans and a black t-shirt every day of his life and he can’t even wear jewelry on the job site.
He loves his work, but I’m totally clueless when it comes to tools. Give me a paintbrush and some gorgeous fabric and I can make your room look tres chic, but build it? Nope. That’s all Dex.
We complement each other in every way, but I hate shopping for him. And I love shopping, so that’s saying something.
But a woman. A late-night lover. Now that, I can arrange.
He’s more traditional than I am, but I think he’ll go for it.
I just have to make sure he understands it’s not cheating, and it doesn’t mean we love each other any less or desire each other any less. It’s just another way to play.
Which brings me back to writing this darn ad. All the advice says to be specific. One person went so far as to say, “unicorns may be mythical, but they’re not mind-readers.” Another suggested the term unicorn is totally offensive.
I think it’s hot. You can call me a unicorn any day, I think to myself.
But I understand the “hunting” issue and decide to be very clear about who we are and what I’m looking for, to avoid any accusations of bait and switch which seems to be the biggest problem surrounding the concept of unicorns.